were sucking in air—like Dad’s. His strong jawline—like Dad’s. His hair was slightly lighter than his father’s, but still quite dark, and when wet, the texture mimicked his father’s as it sported a fine wave pattern. While dry, it was poker straight like his mother’s. How awful it must’ve been for Mama to have to look, day in, day out, into the face of the man who’d stabbed her in the heart. Could it be Mama hated him, too? Maybe that was the reason why she lied. Maybe she didn’t keep two jobs to take care of him after all. Maybe she did that because she couldn’t stand the sight of him…
She hadn’t let him leave before because Brent senior wanted him…and anything that Brent senior wanted, she’d ensured he never received. It would serve as payment for the heartache, cheating, lying and manipulation she’d endured. Brent hung his head, surprised that his hatred for his mother, born five minutes earlier, evaporated just that quickly. He wasn’t certain where to place the heavy culpability, but someone needed to hold the trophy, wear the t-shirt and hold a dismal parade in their honor. In the next few minutes, he found himself staring down at a perfectly made queen-sized bed. He’d never slept in a bed that large or nice before, dressed in crisp white sheets and a light blue and white striped comforter and duvet. Four pillows, versus just one flat yellowed one from years of bleaching, covered the bed neatly, as if the room had been prepped for a photo shoot. He gently picked up one of his bags and placed it on top of the bed. Unzipping it, he stared down at his airplane collection, carefully wrapped and protected by his clothing, socks and underwear for safekeeping. He unwrapped one and traced the tip of the shiny dark blue wing with his index finger.
“You still love airplanes, huh?” his father stated as he leaned against the doorframe, his ankles crossed and a bottle of beer now in his hand.
“Yeah…I still collect them.” He tried to sound more chipper, but simply couldn’t muster it.
“You know what, Brent?” The man took a swig from his bottle, then noisily exhaled. “I think you got that adventurous spirit from me. You see, your mother never wanted to go anywhere or do anything. Me though?” He pointed at his chest. “I like going different places, seeing new things. I used to take you on business trips with me when I had this sales position. You probably don’t even remember.”
“I remember a few…”
The man nodded and smiled, seemingly pleased with that revelation.
“When I had to go up to Michigan, I’d sometimes take ya, put you on the plane. You loved that! I can still remember you talkin’ my damn ear off as you observed the clouds, all of that, and you’d pitch a fit if I wasn’t able to get you a window seat. Most of the time, I could. You even got to visit the pilot once. It seems ever since then, you’ve been restless, just like your old man. It’s a disease, a curse, and a wonderful thing all at once. You’ll never want to be still, Brent, unless some good ass money, some opportunity you can’t refuse comes out the sky and forces you to plant roots.”
Brent nodded, not sure what to say as he returned to admiring his toy plane collection before glancing back over his shoulder at his father.
“Dad, can I ask you something?”
“Yes…”
“How’d you afford a place like this?” He looked around his room, noting the large flat screen television mounted on the wall, a closet full of fluffy white bed sheets that looked expensive. This place had none of that Wal-Mart stuff he was accustomed to and it even had a real nice desk and chair, with a laptop on the surface of the rich, polished wood. He assumed it was for him. He always had to use the computers at the library. This was a pleasant surprise.
“Son, I told you when you got here, and I’ll tell ya again. One thing you will get with me is complete honesty.”
The man took a deep breath
She hadn’t let him leave before because Brent senior wanted him…and anything that Brent senior wanted, she’d ensured he never received. It would serve as payment for the heartache, cheating, lying and manipulation she’d endured. Brent hung his head, surprised that his hatred for his mother, born five minutes earlier, evaporated just that quickly. He wasn’t certain where to place the heavy culpability, but someone needed to hold the trophy, wear the t-shirt and hold a dismal parade in their honor. In the next few minutes, he found himself staring down at a perfectly made queen-sized bed. He’d never slept in a bed that large or nice before, dressed in crisp white sheets and a light blue and white striped comforter and duvet. Four pillows, versus just one flat yellowed one from years of bleaching, covered the bed neatly, as if the room had been prepped for a photo shoot. He gently picked up one of his bags and placed it on top of the bed. Unzipping it, he stared down at his airplane collection, carefully wrapped and protected by his clothing, socks and underwear for safekeeping. He unwrapped one and traced the tip of the shiny dark blue wing with his index finger.
“You still love airplanes, huh?” his father stated as he leaned against the doorframe, his ankles crossed and a bottle of beer now in his hand.
“Yeah…I still collect them.” He tried to sound more chipper, but simply couldn’t muster it.
“You know what, Brent?” The man took a swig from his bottle, then noisily exhaled. “I think you got that adventurous spirit from me. You see, your mother never wanted to go anywhere or do anything. Me though?” He pointed at his chest. “I like going different places, seeing new things. I used to take you on business trips with me when I had this sales position. You probably don’t even remember.”
“I remember a few…”
The man nodded and smiled, seemingly pleased with that revelation.
“When I had to go up to Michigan, I’d sometimes take ya, put you on the plane. You loved that! I can still remember you talkin’ my damn ear off as you observed the clouds, all of that, and you’d pitch a fit if I wasn’t able to get you a window seat. Most of the time, I could. You even got to visit the pilot once. It seems ever since then, you’ve been restless, just like your old man. It’s a disease, a curse, and a wonderful thing all at once. You’ll never want to be still, Brent, unless some good ass money, some opportunity you can’t refuse comes out the sky and forces you to plant roots.”
Brent nodded, not sure what to say as he returned to admiring his toy plane collection before glancing back over his shoulder at his father.
“Dad, can I ask you something?”
“Yes…”
“How’d you afford a place like this?” He looked around his room, noting the large flat screen television mounted on the wall, a closet full of fluffy white bed sheets that looked expensive. This place had none of that Wal-Mart stuff he was accustomed to and it even had a real nice desk and chair, with a laptop on the surface of the rich, polished wood. He assumed it was for him. He always had to use the computers at the library. This was a pleasant surprise.
“Son, I told you when you got here, and I’ll tell ya again. One thing you will get with me is complete honesty.”
The man took a deep breath
Similar Books
